Angry
by threesummerdays
Summary: Ruth is having a rough day, and she's angry at Harry. He, of course, wants to know what he's done. AU S10 smut. There's your warning.


**A/N:** A long time ago I promised an attempt at angry sex. Well, I don't know how this works, but there's definitely an angry Ruth. :)

* * *

There's no reason for her to be so mad at him, but she is. Erin used the last of her favorite tea bags, Dimitri's been teasing her about the way she frets over Harry's not being at the team meeting, and Calum can't keep his mouth shut about the pretty little thing from Six that Harry's been chatting to animatedly ever since he got back from his meeting. Add to that that she's just been on the phone with an old friend from GCHQ who's announced her marriage, pregnancy, and promotion all in one conversation, and Ruth's feeling a bit out of sorts.

So after the slut leaves, when he comes up to ask her to look up this one terrorist, it shouldn't take long with her intelligence, she snaps.

And in front of the whole Grid, she starts to yell at him. Something, she seems to recall, about his being "an absolute utter douche bag of the highest class" and quickly adding "heartless bastard with delusions of grandeur" to her list of complaints.

Needless to say, she flees to the ladies quickly after, leaving a shell-shocked team behind her. She collapses against the sink with a heavy sob and stares at herself in the mirror. The mascara tracks make her look like a pathetic zebra. She cries ever harder.

Eventually she sinks to the floor and pulls her knees to her chest. She has no hope of Harry ever trying to love her again, she's too old to be a mother, there's no chance of a promotion in Section D but she can't imagine leaving him…

She sniffs loudly and wipes her nose on her arm. There's a gentle knock on the door. She stares at it incredulously. No one knocks on a bathroom door.

"Ruth?"

She doesn't know why the anger swells in her belly, but it does and she wants to open the door and punch him in the face. She takes a deep breath, tries to calm herself down.

"Ruth, are you all right?"

"Go away."

"Erin's worried about you. So are Dimitri and Cal. So am I."

"Go the fuck away, Harry. I don't want to talk to you right now."

"You didn't seem to have a problem telling me exactly what you thought a few minutes ago."

She springs to her feet and flings the door open. "How dare you," she snarls at his stunned expression. "You see, Harry, that's exactly the sort of fucking egotistical, disgusting, disagreeable…"

But before she can finish her insult, he's walked into the bathroom, pushed her backwards against the wall, and started kissing her.

And kissing her quite well, if she may say so.

She groans into his mouth and presses her tongue against his, tasting his whiskey that he had after an early call with the HS. He moans in response and pushes closer against her, his hands wandering over her hips and sneaking beneath her blouse. She arches instinctively into him. This moment has been years in the making and she loves that she can feel the influence she's having on him right here, right now.

"No," she says, breathing heavily against his cheek as his mouth travels over her jaw and neck.

He doesn't listen to her, just keeps nipping and sucking and laving attention on her pulse. She knows he'll leave a mark, and she can't decide if she's angry or not.

"God, Ruth, you feel so good," he whispers, pressing harder against her. "Don't ask me to stop."

"Stop," she says, and he growls into her neck, "No."

She pushes him away and slaps him. He takes another step back and stares blankly at her. Her anger is a bright red handprint across his cheek.

"How dare you," she says, voice low and deep. "How dare you think that you can just waltz in here and make love to me like nothing's happened."

"What's happened?" he asks, clearly confused.

"You proposed to me in a graveyard, Harry! You traded a state secret for me, you defended yourself in the inquest by saying that you didn't care for me at all. You had an affair with a Russian asset that resulted in a child and you didn't think it necessary to tell me. And you ask what's happened?"

"Ruth," he says calmly, taking a step toward her. "My proposal was wrong, I know. I hadn't even kissed you since you came back. And as for Albany, I didn't even have to think about it. And you know as well as I do that I didn't trade it because you're a damn good analyst. I traded it because I love you and I can't imagine living without you. And as for Elena, I hoped I would never see her again."

"So you didn't think you should tell me?"

"I thought you'd hate me."

"Harry, I hate you more when you lie to me. I thought we'd become closer than that. That you could tell me things."

"I tell you everything," he whispers.

"Not everything."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'm sorry for everything. But I'll never be sorry for loving you. And whatever that prompts me to do, I'll never apologize for it. I love you too much."

She growls and slams her fist against the wall. It hurts like the devil, but she refuses to let him see the tears in her eyes. Instead, she just keeps facing away from him and starts to raise her voice.

"How can you say that and expect me to stay mad at you?"

He hears the quiet crack in her voice, and in spite of her attempt to shield her emotion from him, he can see the tears in the mirror. He takes a step closer.

"How mad are you at me?" he asks, and she throws her head back with an angry laugh.

"How mad am I at you? I'm furious, Harry! You push me away and you pull me back and I can't escape you and even when I think about the other things I could be doing with my life, I can't bear to think about not being at your side every second of every day because I love you so much it hurts, physically hurts, and leaving you would make me feel like I'm dying. No man has ever made me feel so much and it scares me to death and I keep trusting you in spite of my better judgment that tells me it will never end well and that I'm destined for something horrible at the end of all this. How can I not be furious at you, Harry, when you've done all this to me?"

He wraps a hand around her waist and spins her around into his arms. She starts punching his chest.

"What else?" he says, ignoring the pounding of her fists. "What else makes you mad at me?"

"You had a meeting with that woman from Six and you missed our team meeting and you were probably enjoying the view of her cleavage that she didn't even try to hide and it made me miss you even more."

"You're possessive and jealous and insane," he says, and she glares at him. Her punches get harder.

"You leave all of your secretarial work to me!"

"You never let me see your legs!"

"You never took me out to dinner again!"

"You said no to my proposal!"

"I wanted to say yes!"

He stops yelling for a moment and stares at her. Her cheeks are red from all her yelling and her eyes are bright and sparkling and he loves her so much more in that moment that he just regrets they're in the ladies of Thames House.

Not that that's going to stop him.

He leans in and kisses her again, pressing insistently at the crevice of her lips. She parts them instantly, moaning against the beauty of his tongue. His fingers scrape beneath her blouse again and she drags his head closer to hers, twisting her fingers into his hair. They can't possibly get close enough for her liking, she wants him on her, inside her, all around her…

She bites his lips and he returns the favor, nipping her tongue for good measure. She wraps her legs around his, arching again as he presses his hips into hers, the tiled wall digging into her back. God, she wants this.

"What else?" he breathes as he starts to make his way toward her collarbone. "What else made you mad?"

"Erin drank the last of my favorite tea, Dimitri's been laughing at me all day, Cal was staring at that hussy's legs…"

"Yeah?" he says, pushing her blouse away as he starts kissing the swells of her breasts.

"And you in that tie," she says, twisting it around her hand and tugging so his face collides with her chest, "and me not being able to do anything about it."

She had something else to say but he's ripped her blouse open now and pushed her bra aside and, God, his hands and mouth are all over her and she's never felt so amazing with anyone ever before. He sucks her nipples, alternating sides, biting them gently at first, then more forcefully. She sighs and leans her head back against the wall, pulls him closer to her, wants him all over her.

"Harry…"

"You left me," he growls into her, kissing and biting and sucking. "You left me alone in this hell, you said no, you turned down a second date, you broke my heart. And I'm still in love with you."

"Oh, Harry!"

He reaches behind her and deftly unhooks her bra, tugging it and her blouse off in one go and throwing them to the floor. His hands roam again, and she shivers in his touch. He reaches down and unzips her skirt, watches it pool around her feet. He stares at her black lace knickers and takes a breath.

"You do this to me," he whispers, his mouth pressed against the fabric, "and I can never stop wanting more."

She thrusts her hips toward him and he takes the hint, ripping the knickers at the seams and flinging them to the floor. He reaches between her legs and touches her. She moans and thrusts into his hand.

"God, you're so wet," he whispers, moving his fingers deftly inside of her, making her groan more and more. "I want you. I want you right here."

"I hate you," she whispers, but his mouth is occupied and she starts to sigh happily as he licks and sucks and teases her.

"I can't stand you," he whispers before sucking her clitoris. "You break my heart every day."

"Harry, if you don't do something now, I'll never speak to you again," she says, and he stands up, wraps his arms around her, lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and squeezes tight as he fumbles with his belt. He finally undoes it, pushes his trousers and pants to the ground.

She sighs as he pushes forcefully into her. She's never thought she'd be one for angry sex, and she knows this doesn't really count, but she's still trying to figure out if she's mad at him or not, so she'll count it. She whimpers as he holds still.

"Harry, please…"

He starts to move, pulling out of her and slamming back in, the tiles biting into her back as she moans and drops her head against the wall. She wants to feel him even more, to know every inch of him. He keeps going, not asking if she's all right, just pushing harder and faster and harder and faster until she feels like she's about to explode.

"Harry," she mewls. "Harry, please…"

He reaches between them and massages her intimately as he continues to push into her harder and harder. She starts to cry out, but he covers her mouth with a bruising kiss, biting her tongue as he thrusts over and over and she keeps crying out because it's the most earth-shattering orgasm she's ever felt and she doesn't know how else to express it because she just wants to explode and die of happiness.

He comes moments later, collapsing, sighing, falling into her, and she's still trying to catch her breath because his warmth inside of her feels so amazing that she never wants to forget it.

After a few minutes, he pulls out of her and carefully lowers her to the floor. She stands on shaky legs, completely naked and vulnerable to his blackened eyes and unspoken lust, and can't help but laugh when she realizes he's still wearing his shirt and tie.

"Ruth," he breathes. "I don't… I'm so sorry…"

"Don't you dare apologize," she says, pulling him back to her for another kiss. "God, that was amazing. I don't… I mean…"

He kisses her hard. "I know."

"I was just laughing because you're still in your shirt and tie."

"Well, I suppose next time we'll have to make sure you get them off," he says, but she sees the nervousness in his eyes.

"I don't have any more paperwork due today," she says, running one finger over his jaw. "Maybe next time can be sooner rather than later?"

"I'd like that," he whispers, leaning in and kissing her again.

As they pull on their clothes, Ruth smiles at him. "I still have a few things I'm angry about," she says, and he smiles back.

"How sturdy is your kitchen table?"

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**A/N:** Not sure how I like this one, but hopefully you enjoyed! :)


End file.
